OK, it’s strange to post something like this. But I feel compelled to do it. I’m in love. I feel the need to “out” myself.
Go back six months or so. I felt lonely, depressed, desperate.
I did something very, very, very, very strange for me. (Can I insert another “very” and still pass the Strunk and White test?) I signed up to an online dating service. It made me feel like I was out of my mind. But in my despair, I did it.
Within the first few days, I realized it was a stupid decision. I simply couldn’t relate to all the “is he the right one?” messages that people were posting, and I myself had only received two or three messages of interest. Or non-interest, if we want to be precise.
OK, let’s be precise. I got three messages. One from a woman who said, “you sound nice, but you are too far away.” Another from a woman who said, “I’m too pretty for you.” And a third just sent me sexy pictures.
I wrote back to the woman who said I was nice but too far away.
She wrote back. I wrote back. She wrote back. I wrote back. I suggested we meet. We met. We loved.
And we have been loving ever since.